Page 32 of Half Baked

“It doesn’t matter,” Noah insisted. “He took an oath to uphold the law. He could have called the state police. They would have protected his family. It was more dangerous for him to let the guy go. Now, we’re practically at square one.” He shook his head. “Bergan’s description of the guy was so vague it could be just about anybody. Let’s hope Pitcavage has something helpful.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“We’ve still got other avenues to pursue. I’ll look into other deaths around the time of your mother’s. We’ll interview all the teachers your mother worked with and even some of her students if we can come up with a list.” He glanced at me before turning back to the road. “Ideally, we’d ask the school to give us anything they have, but since I’m on administrative leave, I’m technically not supposed to be doing this.”

“You don’thaveto do this while you’re on leave, Noah,” I protested. “The last thing I want is to get you in trouble.”

“I’m not worried about the chief. I’m more worried about optics if the public catches wind of what’s going on.” He held onto the steering wheel. “Think you can get off work for the next few days and help me with this?”

I gasped. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. If anyone catches wind of what we’re up to, I’ll just say you’re asking questions—which you have every right to do—and I’m tagging along.”

“But you don’t like to break rules.”

A sly smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “It isn’t the first time I’ve broken the rules for you, and I suspect it won’t be the last.”

“Okay,” I said with a half-laugh. “Who are you, and where is Noah Langley?”

He laughed with me. “It’s me. Maybe I’m feeling rebellious.”

He’d never struck me as the rebellious type. Then again, maybe this was some latent teenage rebellion. His mother was currently reorganizing his kitchen, and he and his father were at odds.

I tried to sound natural as I voiced a question that had been burning in my chest since he’d first mentioned his mother was in town. “So…how is it having your mother here?”

He talked about his mom for the rest of the drive, telling me about growing up with his mother and sister and his rarely present father. His mother was active in their lives, signing up for room mother activities and PTA. I knew he was frustrated that she’d popped up unannounced, but there was plenty of affection in his voice.

“Does she know about the editorial?” I asked.

“No, and I’m hoping she doesn’t find out.”

“I didn’t know anything about it. What did it say?”

He spent the next few minutes telling me what the paper had written about him. The editorial claimed he’d brought the violence he’d encountered in Memphis to our town, citing the recent robberies, rapes, and murders.

I was pissed on his behalf. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Those crimes had nothing to do with you, Noah. You’re the one whocaughtthe bad guys!”

“I know,” he said with a defeated sigh. “But the chief thinks we need to give it time to blow over. In the meantime, I’ll be on paid leave. On the plus side, I can work on your mother’s murder investigation.”

While he’d said before that he’d investigate her murder, he’d done some cursory digging then put the case on the back burner. Now he was on administrative leave, which meant he wasn’t supposed to be working. Was he helping me because he was a workaholic who lived for his job and couldn’t stop, or was he doing it for me? When it came to solving her murder, it didn’t matter the reason as long as he helped me find the killer. But in regard to a relationship between us, it made all the difference in the world.

“I really hope Bergan wasn’t blowing smoke up our asses.”

I gave him a nervous smile. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

We were approaching Galena when Lance texted back with Stewie Pitcavage’s last known address. I plugged it into Noah’s map app. Pitcavage’s home was located at the base of one of the mountains, ten minutes from our location.

We grew silent as we got closer, and anxiety bubbled in my stomach. I’d waited nearly nineteen years for some kind of information about what happened to my mother. But we had nothing if Bergan’s friend didn’t have the evidence or wouldn’t hand it over.

Noah slowed down on the narrow two-lane road as we approached the location on the app. It was darker now, and we had to search the trees to find the house. The brick ranch home was set back about fifty feet from the road. Several lights illuminated the front of the house and a flagpole with an American flag. A narrow gravel drive led from the road to the house.

“I want you to stay in the car,” Noah said in a low tone as he turned onto the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. “At least until we’re sure he’s not going to try to shoot us.”

I nearly told him he was overreacting, that we wouldn’t get shot for approaching a house, but this was Galena, so it was an actual possibility. “Yeah. Sure.” Getting shot once was enough for me. “But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He parked in the driveway and left the car running. “Just in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

He got out, walked up to the glass storm door and knocked, then waited at the base of the two concrete stairs.

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